


On Scratch Gravel Road

by antiquitea



Series: Spearmint [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6523777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquitea/pseuds/antiquitea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the map spread over the hood of the car, Karl leaned over it with his fingers attempting to find the road that they were on. Chris kicked at the gravel on the road and took occasional swigs from the bottle of soda he found in the backseat of the car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Scratch Gravel Road

Chris shoved a fistful of wadded up bills into Karl’s hand, who glanced at the currency that had witnessed better days then at his friend with that eyebrow which was always raised. Scraping the toe of his shoe against the pavement, Chris coughed and then spit, and Karl twisted his face in disgust.

“My throat is scratchy. Get me some lozenges, will ya?” Chris asked, lifting his eyes to look at the horizon and then at the meter on the gas pump.

“Yeah,” Karl muttered. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Karl wandered into the gas station’s convenience store with his hands shoved into his jeans’ front pockets. He grabbed a package of beef jerky, some bottles of water, a couple bags of chips, a pack of gum, and the lozenges that Chris has so politely requested. As he paid for his purchases and the gas, the gas station attendant (a stereotypically pizza faced young boy with red hair and braces), bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow.

“Hey, ain’t you that guy from -”

“No,” Karl replied tersely, grabbing the junk food and making his way out the door.

Chris was already situated in the passenger seat of the car, the hood of his flannel work jacket pulled down over his eyes. Karl opened the driver’s side door and threw his purchases onto Chris’ lap, who gasped in surprise and made a move to catch the items before they fell to the floor. Karl chuckled as he did his seatbelt up and turned the key in the ignition.

“You’ve could’ve gotten a bag,” Chris said, tearing open the package of beef jerky.

“They’re not good for the environment,” Karl said with a smile as they pulled away from the gas station.

Chris’ teeth tore a piece of beef jerky apart, and chewed the portion of it in his mouth. He pushed his hood back and glanced out the window, watching the dim lights of the town fall away from them. Taking the other items and throwing them in the backseat of the car, Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he twirled the pack of gum in his fingers.

“You didn’t get spearmint.”

Karl looked in his rearview mirror and then turned his attention back on the road. “Apparently you hate it.”

Chris said nothing, just smiled and reclined in his seat, throwing his feet up onto the dashboard. He slept until the sun rose.

* * *

“We should go on a road trip,” Chris said in such a hushed voice that he wasn’t sure that Karl would hear.

“Actors don’t go road trips,” Karl replied, stretching his arms over his head and sitting up.

Chris watched as Karl got up from the bed and attempted to locate his underwear. Reclining with his arms behind his head, Chris watched him grow increasingly frustrated at not being able to find them.

“Why not?” Chris asked, rubbing at his eye.

Karl grunted as he kicked his shirt across the room. “Because.”

“Worst argument ever,” Chris declared, sitting up. “Look, we stick to the back roads. Away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. Small towns and the like. Go incognito. That kind of shit.”

Finally locating his underwear, Karl pulled his boxers on and turned to face Chris. “Wear fake mustaches? That sort of thing?”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

* * *

Getting Karl to agree to a road trip took significantly less convincing than Chris had anticipated, which he was thankful for. He’d expected to have drug the older man and drag him to the car. Chris didn’t really have a reason for wanting to go on a road trip with Karl, he just wanted to.

He also expected to hear various long lectures from Karl about responsibilities about having to go back to New Zealand, about their jobs, and the like.

Karl barely said two words about any of those topics aside from, “I drove around New Zealand once when I was in my teens with some mates. It was a good time.”

Chris didn’t doubt that it was.

* * *

They sat in a diner in the middle of nowhere that boasted free coffee refills. Chris drank his black, and Karl tore open packets of sugar and cream into his. Karl poked at the remains of his scrambled eggs while Chris ate them when Karl would eventually stop.

“We’re lost,” Karl said finally.

“Impossible,” Chris said with a mouthful of eggs. “You can’t get lost in America.”

“Where are we then?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Not really, I guess.”

* * *

The consumption of far too much coffee required that they stop every half hour so that Chris could take a piss on the side of the road. Karl finally suggested that they just stop somewhere for the night. The owner of the motel was a stout older man with a mustache that was curled up at the sides, a ruddy face and weathered hands who didn’t bat an eyelash when Chris asked for a room with only one bed.

Karl shaved using the bathroom mirror which was covered in grime that he refused to wipe off while Chris sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through the channels.

“I still say that we’re lost,” Karl declared from the bathroom, running his razor under the tap water.

“Can’t get lost in America,” Chris reiterated. “We just don’t know where we are. And it doesn’t matter.”

When Karl finished shaving, he pulled the remote from Chris’ hands and flung it across the room, and then fisted his hands in Chris’ t-shirt. “Keep up that smart mouth and I’ll fuck you until you’re stupid.”

“That a promise?” Chris challenged, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Karl didn’t fuck him until he was stupid, but he did fuck Chris until he was a little more than a blithering mess and they had a charge on their room for a replacement bed frame. The older man with the mustache still didn’t bat an eyelash.

* * *

Karl glared at the map until Chris was certain that it would slap him. It was Chris’ turn to drive, and it was entirely possible that he had gotten them even more lost than they already were. There were far too many open fields and cattle for them to be anywhere familiar. When they finally pulled off to the side of the road, Karl doubted that stopping would be any further beneficial than continuing to drive would be.

With the map spread over the hood of the car, Karl leaned over it with his fingers attempting to find the road that they were on. Chris kicked at the gravel on the road and took occasional swigs from the bottle of soda he found in the backseat of the car.

“I’m not going back,” was all the Karl said.

Chris stopped his pacing and glanced back at Karl, furrowing his brow. “Well, of course not. I think going back would take us further away from civilization. We probably want to keep going West.”

“Not that,” Karl muttered. “I meant New Zealand.”

“Oh.”

Karl was silent, and then after a beat, “That’s it? Oh? Isn’t that what you wanted.”

Chris’ response surprised even himself. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Karl stood upright and sighed, arms folded across his chest. “Care to explain to me why?”

Chris glanced at the road, then at the sky. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean it. You just caught me off guard. Months ago you said that it wouldn’t happen. I’d pretty much resigned myself to the fact that you would, well, never be mine. Fully, y’know.” Chris sighed. “What changed?”

“Everything.”

“Care to explain to me what?”

Karl turned back to the map. “No.”

* * *

They found themselves in a motel with two beds.

Chris listened to Karl’s breathing, and Karl listened to Chris fidgeting.

* * *

“I left her. For you.”

The silence in the car had become unbearable, but Chris was certain the sentence just spoken by Karl was even more so.

“Why would you do that?” Chris asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I kind of love you, you big dumb, idiot.”

* * *

There was that sense of fear that at any moment they could be caught, but Chris hadn’t seen a single soul as they had pulled off the highway. He burned and ached all over, one hand gripping Karl’s shoulder and then other gripping the headrest of the driver’s seat. He’d been holding back a moan to the point where when it came out past his lips it sounded less like one of pleasure and more one of pain. Karl had stopped moving and looked at Chris quizzically, who simply shook his head and let out a breathy, “S’okay.”

Karl nodded and watched Chris’ face as he moved inside of him, drinking the pleasure reflected in his eyes and the way his mouth hung open as he tried to regulate laboured breathing.

It was oddly beautiful and strangely perfect.

* * *

They arrived back in Los Angeles to little fanfare, which they were both thankful for. Karl took a long shower to wash off the grime of driving for fourteen straight hours, and Chris checked his voicemail while pacing his living room.

As Chris looked in his bare cupboards for some food he heard Karl walk into the kitchen. When he turned around to greet him, Chris couldn’t read his expression and that worried him.

“I can’t,” Karl said, not meeting Chris’ eyes.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t stay.”

Chris didn’t get angry. He didn’t get upset. He didn’t get anything. He just said, “What are you waiting for, then? Get out.”

He heard Karl leave the kitchen, and then heard him leave the house. Only then did he put his fist through a wall.

* * *

Karl’s fingers rapped absently at the keys on his laptop with not nearly enough force to register letters on the screen. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, searching his brain for words that seemed to be far from his grasp.

He deleted it all. It was a silly email anyway.

* * *

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I just -”

“Look. Karl. You really … you really don’t have to explain anything, okay? I understand.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, you’re right. I don’t.”

There was silence for far too long. “Can we go back to the way it was?”

“How far back are we talking?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me know when you do.”

* * *

They ended up going back to a period of time that existed before they knew each other. Chris didn’t text or call like he used to, and Karl couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone.

Neither of them was certain if it was for better or worse.

* * *

_i don’t think i like this._

Chris read the text message over and over again, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to respond. He was sitting across from Zach, who could tell he’d lost his friend by the way he was looking at his cell phone. Sighing, Zach hailed the waiter for the cheque and prodded Chris’ foot with his own.

“Are you going to text him back?” he asked, opening up his wallet.

Chris shook his head a little. “I don’t know.”

_miss you. call later?_

Chris read the message a couple of times before he texted back, and only because Zach threatened to pour red wine over his head if he didn’t.

_you bet._


End file.
